The Statute of Limitations

The statute of limitations. That seven-year period after which whatever crime you committed no longer matters, and after which you can’t be prosecuted for it.

I’m sure the lawyers among me will find fault with my off-the-cuff definition, but it’s good enough for my purposes here.

I’m personally familiar with the statute of limitations because I have experience with it through an old girlfriend. She was unhappy with certain aspects of my past, and had a problem dealing with them. The solution she came up with was to invoke the statute of limitations. This meant that seven years after the events that bothered her, it would be as if they’d never happened, and I’d be kosher.

Well, OK. It sounded a bit like Jacob working seven years to get Rachel (and then getting Leah instead), but fine. And since I’d already had two years under my belt since the last of those events, the next five would be a piece of cake.

And at the end of those seven years, while my past may not have been an issue anymore, neither was our future, since our relationship was on its last legs anyway.

But I’m glad that she introduced me to personal applications of the statute of limitations because I have another reason for thinking about it today. It was seven years ago that an organization that I “gave the best years of my life” to decided to give me the boot.

I knew that in time I’d stop feeling bitter about what had happened to me, I knew that the inverse square law would have its way with me, and I wouldn’t really care about it anymore, except maybe as a historical footnote to my life. And, in fact, I was surprised at how quickly the inverse square law did have its way with me, once I no longer had any reason to deal with the institution. Informally, as I established a new, and better life, somewhere else, I stopped caring long before the statute of limitations hit; but despite that, the seven-year mark is still worth noting. It’s worth noting as being the official point at which I’m able to say that I don’t really care about the place, except for what amusing stories I can tell about my time there. At seven years I can and should let go.

Yes…at seven years, if you haven’t done it yet, you need to let go. You need to make space in your head for something else, rather than letting whatever bad thing happened to you then continue to consume you. If, at seven years, you’re still bent out of shape about it, then you’re letting it win by continuing to have control over you.

If the previously mentioned inverse square law has done its work, then the new good stuff has gently pushed that bad thing out anyway. But some people insist on holding onto that bad thing for dear life, not ever wanting to forget how they were wronged…and not giving anything better a chance to take its place.

But seriously…at seven years, if it hasn’t already been gently pushed out, you need to be intentional about putting it aside…just as my old girlfriend was willing to be intentional about putting aside the things she didn’t like from my past.

The point of the statute of limitations has arrived for me, and I’ve long since let go of what happened to me. I’m hoping that others, who found themselves in a similar situation, will be able to do the same.